More than Enough
by frazzledazzlegirl
Summary: A sequel to my RL/HG one shot "Secrets" from the POV of Remus and not Hermione this time.


_Authors Note - I haven't written anything for a long time and had forgotten about this account! After reading my old stories I decided to get back into writing today and this is a short sequel to my RL/HG one shot "Secrets" from Remus' POV instead of Hermiones. _

_Disclaimer - I own nothing except the plot of this story. _

More than Enough

He couldn't sleep. He'd gone to bed hours ago, and had tried everything. He'd tried reading, he'd tried counting sheep, at one point he'd gone downstairs to make hot milk hoping it would help him sleep but it didn't. He just couldn't shut off his brain, and kept tossing and turning, finally facing the door, not comfortable in his bed. He was far to on edge to relax.

It had been exactly one year since the death of Ginny Weasley and he knew that a lot of people in Grimmauld Place would have trouble sleeping tonight, but that one person especially wouldn't be able to. She and Ginny were best friends and shared the same room here when Ginny was alive. Since she had died, Hermione couldn't bare sleeping in that room alone, not with the nightmares and with the guilt. She believed that she could have saved Ginny, since she dreamt about it beforehand, but no matter how hard Remus tried to convince her, and she pretended to listen to him, he knew that she still blamed herself deep down. And so, she had trouble sleeping.

He'd found out one night, after a few months of puzzlement. Things were fixed, or cleaned or replaced in the night to those who had lost belongings or were to tired to do what they needed to do. Everyone had joked about a magical elf helping around the house, but no one had actually tried to find out who was doing these good deeds. He'd woken up when Hermione and replaced some glasses of his in his room, and then he had found out the truth. She had been the one helping everyone in little ways. She had insomnia and decided to help everyone instead of trying to help herself.

He never told her this theory that he had about it, but he believed that maybe she tried to make up for her guilt, by helping others. She had broken down into tears when she had told him her secrets, and fallen asleep in his arms. The next morning was a bit awkward but they carried on like normal, and every now and then she would slip back into his room at night and climb into bed with him. He never questioned her, but simply put his arm around her and let her sleep. He doubted she slept much otherwise and even though it was… not appropriate as some would say, he wanted her to have a good nights sleep whenever she needed it. The visits had lessoned over the months, but he knew that tonight, she wouldn't be able to sleep, and so that was why he was so tense.

Usually, he didn't know when she would turn up and would usually be asleep or almost asleep when she came in, but knowing that she would come tonight, changed things. Now he was the one who couldn't sleep. She was an attractive young woman, and he was, well, he was a man after all. A man old enough to be her father he chided himself as he always did whenever he thought of Hermione as woman rather than a girl. She seeked comfort from him, nothing else he told himself, because he's an old man, a fatherly figure he added on for good measure, not entirely sure why he was battling with himself since it never worked, but it made him feel better sometimes. He couldn't change his feelings, but he could damn well tell himself off about them.

It's not like he would ever act on them, and he treated her normally like he always did. Except for when she would turn up at night, then he'd let her sleep in his bed, cuddled into him, which most people would not consider to be normal. He hadn't realised how beautiful she was when she had started doing this, he just wanted her to feel safe and to be able to relax and rest. It took awhile to get used to her being there, since he was always used to being on his own, especially when sleeping.

Sure there had been Tonks, but it just wasn't right. At the time he felt that she was too young for him, and she was remarkably older than Hermione, so he couldn't understand his feelings now. Except, well, Tonks was rather immature for her age, and Hermione had always acted older than her years, he had to admit that, but there was still the same problem, age. She was the same age as Harry, his best friends son. She had only graduated from Hogwarts two years ago and was twenty years old, while he had graduated Hogwarts before she was even born and he was twice her age. It was just so improper, and wrong, but he still cared about her.

He had done so for a while now, but he never did anything when she was sleeping next to him, except that now he would hug her back, instead of letting her hug him. He really did cherish those moments and tried to savour them, when the next morning she would awkwardly say her thanks, and he'd accept and they would return to their lives. A lot of the relationships between everyone in the house were strained, there was a war going on and they were fighting in it, and losing people. No one wanted to get too close to each other, in case they lost someone. He was always worried when someone left for a mission, but when it was her, he wanted to go to protect her, when most of the time he couldn't. Then she'd return and climb into his bed hoping to forget whatever he'd seen. How he'd love to do that whenever he returned.

Sighing he turned over on his side, facing away from the door, he couldn't bare to look at it anymore. It was like that feeling, what was it he mused to himself. When you're waiting for time to go by quickly and you keep looking at your watch and time seems to go so slowly when you're watching it. Maybe if he didn't look at the door, time would go faster. He mentally chided himself again, for wishing her to be there. It wasn't as if she had asked him if she could come or said anything, but knowing her, he knew she would come. He turned over onto his back and ran his hands through his hair. If she did come tonight, how would he act anyway? Surely she would realise how he felt? But he did try so hard to hide his feelings, and she had never seemed to notice before so hopefully it wouldn't be any different.

A light tap on his door alerted his attention. She was here. She started knocking after that first night before coming in, just to warn him. He hadn't asked her and she had never said she would, but it was just a thing she did. Sometimes he heard it if he was awake. He turned his head to face the door and saw her slip into the room.

Her hair was loose hiding her face and she seemed so tiny and frail in her white cotton nightdress. She moved across the room quietly and slipped into bed, he could feel how cold she was instantly and put his arm around her, startling her.

"You're awake" she stated, he was hardly ever awake. He nodded.

"Couldn't sleep." he said with a half smile, since it was always her who couldn't sleep.

"Neither could I," she whispered, not looking him in the eye. He knew why and pulled her close to him.

"You've been crying?" he asked her gently; raising his hand to wipe away the tears he knew would be there. She barely nodded her head and continued to cry but more openly now. "I just miss her so much" she cried into his chest.

"I know" he soothed her, moving his hand to now brush her hair away from her face, letting her tears soak his shirt.

He didn't know how long it had been since she'd come in, but she had stopped crying a while ago, he'd only just realised now. He glanced down at her and saw her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply. She looked peaceful, despite a few remaining tears lingering in her eyelashes. She was so beautiful, he couldn't believe it that she was here with him, right now in this moment. He knew it was because she was upset and needed comfort, but he was still glad to be there for her, and that she came to him out of everyone. That made him happy, and glad that he could do something to help her just be being there for her. He smiled contentedly to himself and was ready to fall asleep.

He realised as he was drifting off to sleep, that he loved her and while she would never feel the same about him, this was more than enough for him.


End file.
